I have to say that part of the lack in posts recently comes from two reasons. First of all, I’ve tried to make a few recipes and re-make a few others to post, and nothing was ever working for me in the kitchen. So I decided not to worry about it for awhile.
Second of all, what do I say? Sometimes I come here completely flummoxed by what to put out there on the internet. There’s a lot of stuff about life that I don’t want to. There’s other stuff I could, but seems boring, or like I’ve already talked about it a million times, or like it’s a rabbit hole that leads to no where. I could about how much I really love our new house, but who wants to hear about that? I could talk about how I still miss our old one sometimes, and how moving just 30 minutes down the road from where we used to live has been harder for me than expected, but that’s about all I have to say about it. Just that statement. I could talk about how fall has turned out crazy, but how we are adapting…but isn’t that always the case for everyone?
So that just leaves us with some cookies. An old recipe that I haven’t made in years. When I made it this time, I wondered why. They are really so simple and so delicious, but in a way dangerously unsatisfying because I cannot only eat one.
This isn’t the most fall thing I’ve been wanting to make (hello pumpkin bread and soups and chicken and biscuit cobbler), but so far with the way our lives have looked (and with the weather not really convincing me it’s fall) it’s the best I’ve been able to do. I think cinnamon counts though.